Every War Has Secrets - Chapter 2

War changes people, and that’s a fact. In the past, I would never have dared to go against my father in such a way. I would never have dreamed of persuading my cousins so easily. And I certainly would never have imagined myself picking scavenge off the bodies of dead soldiers.

But so is life.

And now I was running home with the biggest secret of my life dangling off my tongue. It would be quite a challenge not to spill it all in one desperate gush the moment I walked through the door. I took the opportunity to stand on the front porch and compose my face as best as possible. It was a good five minutes before I finally turned the doorknob.

“Molly, there you are. You missed supper.” My mother’s clenched hands rested on her hips.

She hated when I was late for anything and often dealt out punishments of lengthy time alone in my room. Of all nights to be locked away, this was the worst. My cousins were waiting.

“Sorry, mum,” I said as sweetly as I could. “We were scavenging remember?”

“Well, I…” She paused a moment. Supper and family were both important. But the scavenge was important too.

She held out her hands. “Give it here. And go eat your supper.”

“Can I take my supper outside? Will and Jack are waiting for me.”

“Why? Is there more scavenge?”

I bit my lip. “Yup.”

“Fine,” she turned toward the kitchen. “Be home before the sun sets, understand? And leave your supper here. I’ll keep it warm on the stove.”

I was already half way up the stairs as I called out my thanks. Running into my room, I crouched down beside my bed and reached under into the dusty darkness. My hands groped around in search of a blanket I had rescued from one of Jack’s crazy ideas. It was tightly stuffed under my bed frame: big, thick, and incredibly dusty. But more importantly, it was strong and warm. Perfect.

My cousins were still waiting by the dying soldier when I returned. They had taken some of the coats off of the other soldiers to cover him up a little bit more. But it did not seem to have helped. He was shivering violently.

“We were beginning to think you weren’t coming back,” Jack snickered. “I thought you ran away because you were scared.”

“Of course I’m not scared,” I retorted. “Mum stopped me at the door.”

“I think you were hiding in your room for a while before you decided to come back out here…”

I drew back my hand to punch my stupid little cousin. But William intervened.

“Enough, Jack, leave her alone. And help us with this blanket.”

Carefully we spread the blanket on the damp ground, and mustering what strength our childish bodies could gather, we rolled him over onto the blanket and dragged him up to the barn.

It was a long trek up the hill. Prickers and long dead thorn bushes snagged on the blanket and made the going slow and painful. I was weary of pulling him after only a few meters and my legs were covered in long red scratches, but I did my best not to complain. As the sun crested the distant hills we reached our destination.

The barn was far dirtier and colder than I remembered. Like William had said, the entire east wall was gone and freezing air blew through without hindrance. The straw was old and stank of mildew. The walls were black and rotting from exposure to the weather. The rafters were covered in stringy cobwebs long since abandoned by their spidery inhabitants.

I knelt to make sure the soldier had survived the rough journey while my cousins scouted out a place to put him. William discovered a storage room in the back corner. The door was missing, but it was warmer in there. As the meager light of the autumn sun disappeared, we covered the floor of the little room in the cleanest straw we could find and laid the soldier on top. Then we covered him in the muddied blanket and stood back to view our handiwork. It was not impressive. But it was the best we could do for the day because it was already past the time my mother wanted me home. We said good bye to our soldier and promised to return in the morning.

Unfortunately, my mother was waiting in the big brown chair by the front door when I arrived. With one glance, I could tell I was not going to get away with being late this time. She stood, took me by the arm, and deposited me in the kitchen.

“Scrub these pots,” she said gesturing with her hand. “And then go straight to bed.”

A pout formed across my lips; I hated scrubbing. Still, it was a small price to pay for knowing the soldier was safe in the barn.

Sleeping was difficult that night for my thoughts dwelt on one single thing: the soldier. My heart ached for fear that he would die in the middle of the night. Even though he was in the barn I still imagined it as a horrid place to die; alone and cold. At least he did not have all of his fallen comrades to show him the way to eternal sleeping.

First thing in the morning I dressed and ran downstairs. In my excitement I rushed through my chores, which was quite a rare occurrence for me. It took great effort and restraint to force my hands into a slower pace, which in turn made the quality of the work worse than ever. It was only by good fortune that my mother was not there at the moment to scold me.

With chores shoddily completed, I ran up to the barn hoping against hope that the soldier was still alive. I prepared myself for the worst. To my utter relief, he was not dead, and my cousins were already there waiting for me.

“Good morning,” Will smiled as I entered.

“I wouldn’t say good,” Jack grumbled, his thin hand rubbing his stomach. “We had nothing but bread and some of Ma’s yucky jam for breakfast.”

“Quit your complaining. You’re lucky you even have jam.”

“Yeah, we don’t have jam,” I said.

“So? I am sure you had something more than bread.”

“I haven’t eaten anything today.”

Jack let out a scornful laugh. “Oh, so that explains why you’re so skinny. You’re like a stick.”

How cruel of him to pick on my thinness. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t have curves like the girls on the posters. Mum said they would come, but I was growing impatient.

“You know what?” Jack continued. “You can’t be pretty if you’re gonna be that skinny…”

I pounced on him like a cat after a pesky mouse. Without even thinking, my hand raised up, fingers curving into a fist. Just as I was about to slam my bony knuckles into his stupid face, a strong hand clasped around mine.

“Don’t do it, Molly, that’s not going to help anything.” Will grabbed me by my arms and pulled me off my cousin. I hadn’t realized how strong he was.

With the fight prematurely ended and the anger fading, I felt tears burning in the back of my eyes. I turned to ask Will if it was true that I wouldn’t be pretty if I was skinny, but he had already moved away. He was bending over Jack with a scowl on his face.

“What is the matter with you? Don’t you have any decency?”

Jack pulled himself into a sitting position and rubbed the musty straw from his jacket.

“Decency? We are in the middle of a war stupid, there isn’t decency.”

“There is always a place for decency to girls, Jack, especially your cousin. Now say you’re sorry.”

Jack looked up at me for a moment and then returned to brushing off his clothes.

“Say it. Or I will tell father what you said.”

“I’m not scared of father.”

Will stood and folded his arms. “You liar. I saw the way you…”

A cough interrupted him from the other side of the barn.

“Your stupid soldier is awake,” Jack said, nodding toward the door.

I quit my crying in an instant and rushed into the little room.

But the soldier was not awake; he was losing the ability to breath. I stood frozen in the doorway, unsure what to do.

“Will?” I asked. Maybe he knew.

Will opened his mouth to speak, but Jack stole the opportunity.

“What? Do you mean the doctor’s daughter doesn’t know what to do?” He gave me a wicked little grin.

“Shut up,” Will said. “Go home if you can’t behave.”

It was my turn to smirk.

Will grabbed me by the arm and placed my hand on the soldier’s heaving chest. “Pay attention, Molly. Help me prop him up.”

I helped as best I could. We pulled him up a little bit and then shoved a bunch of straw under his head. Jack just watched from the doorway.

The soldier’s face was paler than I had ever seen. He looked pale enough to be dead. The only proof of life was his breathing, one moment heavy and labored the next shallow and almost naught. I gingerly reached out and touched his cheek, but drew my hand back immediately.

“He is burning, Will,” I gasped.

Will nodded and pulled the blanket off the young man, revealing his tattered and muddy clothing.

“What are you doing?”

“We have to clean him and dress his wound.”

“Oh,” I breathed. How was I going to stand looking at his blood and wounds?

“Jack come over here and help us.”

Jack sauntered over with his arms folded across his chest. He was trying to keep up his disdainful appearance but I could tell he was interested.

“Molly,” Will continued to direct. “There is a bucket out there, go get some water from the pump. And bring in the rags too.”

I ran out of the little room and easily found the bucket. It was sitting in the corner with a few rags draped over it. I guess Will had been thinking ahead.

Forcing the water out of the pump was harder than I first expected. A couple of long abandoned bees nests filled in the space between the handle and the pump; evidence enough that it hadn’t been used since at least the summer. Pushing with all the strength I could muster, a few dribbles of water came dripping out.

I handed over the bucket to my elder cousin not even half full. He nodded.

“Good, now start soaking the cloths. Is the water cold?”

“Freezing.”

“Good.”

I did as I was told as I watched my cousins finish stripping the soldier. His breathing was ragged again and he was shivering violently. But I guess I would too if I was lying in a frosty barn in nothing but my underwear.

“We’re ready. Molly come over here and clean his face. Jack, you get his legs. And I’ll clean the wound.”

The barn fell eerily silent as we all focused deeply on our task. And there was so much blood. Brown blood that had dried and hardened over night. Black blood mixed with dirt inhibiting the clotting. Red blood still oozing from his wounds, running in little rivulets over his body. It was all I could do not to gag over the sight. I glanced up at Will for support, but he was too busy cleaning out the place where the bullet had hit.

Now that his face was clean, I could see clearly how young he really was. Before I would have guessed somewhere in his later twenties, but now I could see he was far younger. Maybe even only a few years older than Will.

Having finished cleaning his neck and face, I scooted over to get a better view of Will’s work. He was slowly cleaning the bullet wound from the outside in, until he was cleaning out the wound itself. The soldier groaned and his jaw clenched; I could image the pain to be awful. I squeezed his hand.

“He’s still bleeding.” Will shook his head.

“Is that bad,” I asked. A stupid question.

"Yeah, we are going to have to treat it. Unfortunately, all I have is this." Will reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of gauze. He looked at it absently for a moment before looking back at me.

"This isn't gonna be enough."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my hands fidgeting with the blanket.

"If his wounds aren't treated correctly, they're going to fester."

"What else does he need?"

"You should know, you're the doctor's daughter," Jack smirked.

I glared at him and bit my tongue so that it wouldn't end up sticking out at him.

Will rinsed the cloth off in the reddened water. "We need some kind of ointment, I don't know, something to stop the infection from taking over."

"Like the kind my pa has?"

Will nodded. "Do you think you could get some?"

I thought through my pa's careful record system and how he monitored his diminishing stock of medicines. All his medical cabinets were securely locked and the keys hidden somewhere secret. Even worse, my pa never let us in his office without him, and his eyes were always watching.

"I could try," I whispered.

Will nodded. "Good. For now all we can do is bind him."

I helped Will wrap the wound, Jack joined in too. However, I was distracted trying to think of some way I could get medicine from my pa's stock. I can't say that I was very much of a help. Still, we managed to finish rather quickly, and as we stood back to view our handiwork I felt a little smile creep across my lips. He looked better now, all clean and bandaged. He seemed to be shaking less as well, but it was hard to tell; having deemed his clothes too filthy to be returned, we had simply covered him in the blanket leaving him rather exposed to the cold air. His coughing had taken a turn for the worse and was now so loud I was sure nearly every neighboring home would be able to hear. I glanced up at Will. He looked back at me.

“Maybe we should say a prayer?” I suggested.

“Sure,” Will nodded.

All three of us knelt by the soldier as I prayed the best words I could think of. I hoped they were good enough.

We promised the soldier we would be back in an hour and then left, each with our own tasks. Will was to find some spare bread in his mother’s kitchen, Jack was to find a blanket, and I was to find a second blanket as well as steal some ointment.

I arrived home and paused on the porch. All the way from the barn to here and I still had not come up with a good plan. Unfortunately, I did not have much time to think it through, so I decided to go with the plan that I felt was most likely to yield the best results. I would find the key to the cabinet - wherever that might be. With my mind made up, I entered the house and climbed the stairs. I figured if my pa had the keys hidden somewhere they were most likely to be both nearby and out of the way. So I checked my parent's bedroom.

I slid open drawer after drawer. Nothing. I tried the cabinet by his bed and the shelves in the closet. Again nothing. Then I heard the front door close and I ran to the window. One of pa's patients was walking away.

The thought hit me like a sudden light blasting into my eyes - where there were patients there must also be keys to the medicines. I stepped quickly away from the window and snuck down the stairs. I could hear my mum in the kitchen cooking dinner and my brother in the back chopping wood for tonight. Only my father remained unseen, and seeing as a patient had just left, it was likely he was in the office. I pressed the door open and slid behind the examination table, listening as my father moved about the room. And then I heard it, the metallic rustling sound of keys. He had just set them on the table. A voice called from the kitchen, something about stirring the soup, and Pa stepped out of the office.

The keys were still on the table; now was my chance. Without pausing, I jumped up, grabbed the keys, and climbed up on the counter. One by one I unlocked the cabinets and peered inside. There were many kinds of medicine, but I had none the particular one I had set out to find. But then I saw it, as I opened the fifth cabinet. A row of small blue vials, each marked with the ever so important word 'antibacterial.'

I was just reaching out to take it when I heard a creak. The creak of a door. I froze.

"Molly? What are you doing?"

Too late. My father had caught me.